


But Now I See

by Too_Many_Seeds



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 14:02:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Too_Many_Seeds/pseuds/Too_Many_Seeds
Summary: The first time Rook met her soulmate, he tried to drown her.





	1. Chapter 1

Her meeting with her soulmate was not the romantic fantasy Rook had dreamed of since adolescence. She had obviously never imagined him to be a member of a violent doomsday cult, of course, and nor had she expected their first touch to be of such an…aggressive nature. 

Her world distorted, broken by the flashing lights the Bliss tended to bring, she expected nothing when the youngest Seed brother stepped forward, something wrathful and dangerous in his eyes, and reached out for her suddenly. Her head was underwater, eyes clamping shut as she clawed violently at the strong forearms holding her down. He jerked her upwards for a moment, and she heard a gasp as she struggled to blink the water away from her eyes, before she was unceremoniously released; falling backwards into the water again. 

Her first meeting with her soulmate, and he had dropped her. 

She went flailing, the movements sluggish from the drug until she managed to find her footing and steady herself. Rook glared up at the man in front of her, before her influenced mind finally understood the severity of the situation. 

There were colours. She had been told of colours since her childhood; the wonderful bursts of life that were dulled until one met the person they were supposed to love and be loved by. And now they were all around her, overwhelming her in an instant. She couldn’t help but whimper, covering her eyes with her hands and trying to block out the sudden overload.

Mere inches away from her, John Seed was breathing heavily, surveying his surroundings in a new light. His followers and the recently baptised were whispering, some obviously having realised what had happened, but none made to say a word, not until they saw how their Herald would receive the situation. He blinked rapidly, taking in the different colours for a moment before settling on the woman in front of him. 

His  _soulmate._ Logically, he’d always known they were out there - Joseph had even been making recent allusions to them being closer than he thought - but the  _Deputy_? Mere moments ago, he’d been overcome by a wave of wrath, faced with the woman who had put so much of his hard work to the torch in her destructive path, yet now as he stared down at she who was to be the sole claimant of his heart, he realised that anger had vanished. 

Well, not vanished exactly. Changed…  _Tempered_. He ran his hand smooth through his hair, dousing himself with wayward droplets of water as he considered the possibilities of this situation. In his mind, he vaguely remembered the ramblings of the Duncans on the matter of soulmates, saying that your destined was to complement you in every way. From his own experiences with their creative ‘teachings’, he had learned that was true for them, at least. While he did not count himself among their wretched ilk, he would be lying if he said that a small part of him had not hoped for the same complementary relationship between him and his own soulmate. 

Perhaps he had found it, after all. 

“Well,” John sighed, wading towards his enemy and soulmate. Though it was too dark to truly get a decent look at her (and all of her wonderful colours), he felt a surge of greed to see her clearly. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her to jolt. “I suppose you’re coming along with me then, darling.” 

Rook slowly peeled her hands away from her eyes, wincing at the array of colours that she was immediately exposed to again. She blinked rapidly, and eventually decided on squinting up at John, trying to ignore the flashing lights of the Bliss, which were much more distracting

“This has  _got_ to be a joke,” she muttered, staggering as tried to step back and away from him. 

He wouldn’t deny that it stung, but he supposed he could not expect her to suddenly throw herself into his arms, not after their turbulent clashes thus far. Though he felt an inkling of wrath in his chest, he pushed it down; her overwhelmed expression softening the sin into something more akin to pity. 

“You’ll find this is very real, Deputy,” John replied, tightening his grip on her shoulder to prevent her from slipping away. Not that she would get far; the Bliss addling her mind would make her disoriented and weak. There would be no running from her soul’s wants. “Do behave, darling. I’ll be taking you home.” 

He motioned to his followers on the shoreline, and began to encourage her to stumble along next to him as he made his way back to land. She wasn’t quite sure what she could do; the lead in her limbs made movements sluggish, and he was holding her up by her arm and preventing her from falling. She could not guarantee that she would be able to stand on her own, let alone make an escape attempt. 

And everything was just so…fucking  _bright._ There was a sharp bright light approaching the nearby driveway, and she winced, turning away as she and John made their way to the grassy riverbank. There was a hum of an engine and a slam of a car door nearby, and beside her, John inhaled sharply - perhaps from excitement.  

“Brother,” her soulmate greeted, and considering that Jacob was a reclusive mountain man, Rook was able to deduce who exactly had arrived. This was simply peachy; this day could not get any better. 

She glanced up at the approaching figure, blinking slowly and taking in the array of colours on him. Unlike her soulmate, who was utterly made of blues and blacks, Joseph was softer; more black and white in his own attire until the sickly golden aviator glasses broke the scheme apart. A part of her couldn’t help but wonder whether he imposed a colourless wardrobe on himself as some sort of memoriam for his late soulmate, but she didn’t allow herself to dwell on that; too distracted as the man beside her encouraged her to walk towards the Father. 

“Her cleansing was successful?” Joseph asked softly, giving her a careful glance to make sure she was calm. “There were no issues?” 

“Quite the contrary, brother,” John replied, not bothering to hide his eagerness. He released her and pressed his forehead against his older brother’s in a display of raw vulnerability and affection. “I can  _see,_ Joseph.” He pulled back and glanced down at her, openly eager and hungry. “My dear Deputy has given me a wonderful gift.” 

Joseph’s eyebrows rose, staring down at the Deputy, and for the strangest moment, she could have sworn that she saw relief on his face. That…was obviously not what she expected. 

“She’s your soulmate?” He asked in a murmur, never looking away from her. 

“She is that indeed,” John confirmed, grasping her and drawing her close to him in a quick and chaste embrace. He hummed as he pressed his lips against the crown of her head. “Unconventional, I know,” he said with a chuckle, “but I am hopeful that this will mean a fresh start…With her at my side.” 

She blanched, the colour fading from her skin. Thankfully, neither man seemed to notice; Joseph too busy smiling warmly at his brother to see her adverse reaction to the thought of being  _chained_  (for that is what it would undoubtedly be, even if not physically) to the youngest Seed. 

“The Lord has seen fit to grant you the other half of your heart, John,” the Father said, soft and almost reverent. “He delivers this gesture of good will, a proof that our cause is just.” He slowly turned his stare to Rook, and his eyes - startlingly blue, she now saw - hardened slightly. “He binds our greatest foe to one of our own, to be led into the garden by my brother; lovely and pure at his side.” 

There was a warning in those words, she knew. Something sinister, a promise of divine retribution should she rebel, should she go against what he said the Lord had preordained. 

“I am happy for you, brother,” was all he said, however, before stepping away and walking back towards the car he had arrived in. 

Beside her, John released a sigh; the sound content and strangely at-peace. He glanced down at her and flashed her a smile. 

“Now, my dear,” he began, tugging her towards the other vehicles lined up to carry the victims away, “I ought to take you to your new home. You will still atone - you must be unburdened by sin to enter the gates of Eden - but I will make it completely painless, darling, I assure you.” He stopped them by the door to the car and opened it for her, jostling her up into the passenger seat. “Then we ought to look at having us wed, don’t you agree?” 

He didn’t wait for an answer; giving her another smile before shutting the door and moving the driver’s side. Clearly, he wasn’t concerned about her trying anything, and he was right to be calm; her body still wasn’t strong enough on its own as the Bliss was still muddling her and leaving her sluggish. 

They did not speak as he drove. She stared out the window; watching as the moonlight dimly lit up enough of her surroundings for her to appreciate the new array of colours brightening up the world around her. The overload had lessened, giving her the chance to take in the new fascinating shades of life everywhere. It truly was a beautiful thing, even if she begrudged the circumstances that created her newfound vision. 

Rook was pulled from her trance all at once by John’s sudden shout of alarm. She glanced ahead and saw a sudden vehicle pull out and slam into the prisoner’s van driving in front of them.

“Fuck!” John swore, veering wildly to the left to avoid the impact, and he quickly hit the brakes, managing to come to a halt just beside the hill’s drop. The prisoner van was not so lucky, easily breaking the steel road barrier and rolling down the incline. At the bottom, Rook could see more vehicles and figures mulling around the crash. Her soulmate saw them too and hissed. “ _Resistance_.” 

Even in her addled mind, she saw her chance. It wasn’t likely that the fall would kill her, and in her state, she knew wouldn’t be getting another chance to flee anytime soon. 

She acted quickly; wrenching the door open, ignoring the shout of alarm behind her and tumbling out onto the ground. She rolled quickly, pushing down the nauseous exhilaration of feeling herself suddenly fall, and focused desperately on trying to brace herself. 

There was a harsh landing on a lower rock that knocked the breath out of her, but she continued rolling on a smoother hill from there; landing in a softer pile of grass. She heard some chatter nearby and saw a few figures that she vaguely recognised from Falls End approach. 

“Here she is!” One of them called out, pulling her to her feet, making her groan in protest at how her body ached from the movement. “She’s not good; we gotta get her out of here!” She was immediately herded towards another car, but she had time to spare a glance behind her and up to the cliff. 

John was gone; his own car vanished. That scared her more than if he were there, honestly, but she had no time to think as lines of bullets began to whizz around her. 

“Get them to safety!” The familiar voice of Pastor Jerome called out above the din, but she wasn’t able to see him before the truck began to speed off, and she was lost in another trance of the gradually fading Bliss and a world of new colours. 

She didn’t hear from her soulmate until the next day. Rook had slept in a spare room above the Spread Eagle, and had been planning to meet with Jerome in the church; refreshed from such luxuries as bed linen and lavender shampoo. She stood on the pavement barefoot, giving Jerome a grateful embrace. 

Rook pulled back, opening her mouth to speak when she noticed a discolouration on the sleeve of his shirt. She frowned, staring closely at it.

“Red,” she muttered, and then quickly glanced up in concern. “Jerome, this is blood! Are you hurt?” 

He brushed her concerns off with a smile, patting at the stain on his dark shirt; barely visible yet 

“It’s not my blood, don’t worry,” Jerome said calmly, and then frowned at her, giving her a careful look. “I didn’t know you’d met your soulmate, Deputy.” 

A flash of panic rushed through her, realising she’d just given herself away and god, but she shuddered to imagine how he’d react if she revealed the identity of her soulmate.  _That_ would go down just brilliantly, no doubt. Thankfully, she was quite sure she’d not broached the subject of soulmates with the pastor before, at least not enough for him to suspect anything. 

“Oh…yes,” she replied lamely, giving a nervous smile. “Not too long ago. He’s…really something.” 

Jerome might have sensed that something was amiss, but he wasn’t one to press her for more. She could respect him for that, and maybe she would trust him with the truth one day, but she had yet to register it herself, let alone be willing to share it with another. 

“It is a beautiful thing to meet your destined soulmate,” he told her, voice warm and comforting and oh, but it made her ache to tell him everything. “The world itself changes for your love.” He inhaled deeply and she knew he wasn’t quite with her anymore; lost in his own memories of the day his life was filled with colour. He cleared his throat and smiled again. “I wish you the best, Deputy.” 

She tried to give him another smile as she left, but she imagined it came out as more of a weak grimace. 

Her body was still sore and recovering from the day before; her legs aching as she walked barefoot on the sunny pavement back towards the Spread Eagle. It was just as she was crossing the street that her radio gave the familiar flicker of static. 

“Good morning, Deputy.” 

Her eyes widened, and she furtively looked around and prayed that nobody was in earshot. She unclipped her radio from her belt and made a beeline for the back of the nearest building, pressing herself up against the wall and hissing into the damn thing. 

“What do you want?” Rook hissed, keeping a watch to make sure that nobody was coming closer to her. She would have much preferred to have ignored him altogether, but she couldn’t risk him letting some precious information spill in front of others. 

He tsked on the other end. 

“Is that any way to greet your soulmate?” He asked, making her wince. 

“Don’t say that,” Rook replied quickly, hushing her voice. She took a deep breath when she heard him chuckle in amusement at her words. “John, I need you to listen very carefully right now. Whatever… _this_ is”-

“Our soulmate bond,” he interrupted, making her wince again at  _that_ word. 

“Whatever  _this_ is,” she repeated, ignoring him, “doesn’t change a thing. I am still going to put a stop to you and your whole doomsday cult - I’m still going to do my goddamn job, you hear me?” She paused for a moment. “This? It means nothing.” 

He was silent now; no clever quips to be heard. She almost believed he’d left, when the radio flickered back to life. 

“I know your sin, my dear,” John said, voice soft and almost melodic. He sighed, the sound long yet almost wistful. “You deny that which is preordained by the highest power of all; you believe  _you_ have any authority, any  _control_ over something that God himself has created.” He hummed, and she could almost imagine the scrutinising look in his eyes - eyes that were blue like the water he’d held her under, she remembered. “How full of Pride you are, darling.” 

She rolled her eyes, not quite buying into his ideology of sin and sinners alike. It was difficult to take him seriously when she knew he flayed people for the cult. 

“Yeah? Well you can keep your little soulmate bond,” Rook replied in a rather harsh tone, “and I’ll keep my  _Pride_. We’ll see how well that turns out for you, okay?” 

There was a beat, before he laughed. 

“We shall see, indeed,” John said. “Don’t worry, my dear…I’ll be seeing you soon.” 

The radio went silent with that ominous statement, and she placed it back on her hip. It didn’t matter that one of her enemies was now her soulmate, she tried to tell herself as she made her way back to the Spread Eagle. 

Now if only she could fool herself into believing it. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rook does everything in her power to poke the bear that is her short-tempered soulmate...and pays the price for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Possible references to future dubious situations.

His ranch was brown; a warm and strangely welcoming colour that seemed unfitting for the man it was meant to house.

Rook stood in the driveway, pacing back and forth as she waited for the requested Resistance forces to join her at the outpost. Grace was at her side, kneeling and checking her gun while Nick flew above them, eyes watching for any possible cult efforts to take the house back.

It was her first real skirmish, heading back into the fray after having recovered from her capture at the hands of John Seed. At the hands of the man who, as it had turned out, was her soulmate. The burst of colours around her had taken quite the adjustment period, with it being the large reason there had been such a delay in her returning to her duty.

She’d asked Nick about it, wondering how he’d dealt with the adjustment when meeting his own soulmate. Of course, the situations weren’t entirely similar - Kim was not abducting and murdering countless of people throughout the Valley, after all.

“Oh yeah, it knocked me for days!” He’d answered, sipping a beer with her while they sat on his lawn chairs one night. “I couldn’t stop looking at everything... like ‘ _woah_! That’s yellow!’ Yeah....that was about Carmina - I loved seeing Carmina properly for the first time; damn near took my breath away.” He’d sniffed and glanced away, and she’d noticed a reddening of his ears. “And then when I saw Kim, I wouldn’t stop talking about how beautiful she looked with all of her colours. I think she got a bit sick of it after a while.”

Kim had later told her that she _never_ got sick of it.

Rook envied them that; their easy relationship and preordained love. She had no such ease in her own soulmate bond.

She’d confessed to Nick that she had found her soulmate, though she obviously didn’t name him. He was happy for her, and it physically hurt her everytime she had to smile through his congratulations.

“Though it’s gotta suck right now, though,” he’d said, sobering up slightly. “But after all this cult shit’s been dealt with, you got the rest of your life with your soulmate to look forward to!”

She’d grimaced, knowing very well that dealing with the cult would mean having to deal with said soulmate. He’d already nearly taken her once, and it was through sheer luck that she’d escaped; she didn’t want to tempt fate by forcing another encounter. But doing nothing wasn’t on the cards.

 _Well_ , Rook thought, glancing around at his massive country ranch, _at least his house is nice._

 _“Hey, uh, Dep?”_ Nick’s voice came patching through the radio, and she and Grace both perked up. “ _I see some of the Resistance trucks heading your way, looks like you’ll be set. I’m gonna bring Carmina down the runway, I’m running low.”_

 _“_ All clear, Nick,” Rook replied, setting the radio back at her belt as the rumbling of the trucks approached.

Mary-May was at the head of the convoy with the Widowmaker, ready to crash into any possible enemies they might have met on the road. She veered to the side, parking close to the airstrip and stumbled out from the driver’s side.

“Holy shit, you have some serious balls, Dep!” She said by way of greeting, barely able to keep the delighted grin off her face as she walked up to Rook. She quickly gestured to the following trucks rolling in behind her as to where they should park and then she reached out her hand. “Fuck me, John’s gonna blow his fucking head when he hears about this.”

Rook winced at the thought, and tried to inconspicuously reach down and shut off her radio. She _really_ didn’t want to hear what John might have to say - she didn’t doubt he’d want to be vindictive, and though he had been generous enough thus far to not broadcast their bond with the same level of subtlety he had in everything else, she didn’t want to test him.

The Resistance began to organise themselves, setting the ranch up for a place of shelter and a strong outpost.

It was nearing sundown when her radio crackled to life - her soulmate having finally heard the news of his home.

Rook was sitting out by one of the sheds, peeking through bags and gathering a look at supplies when he reached out to her.

“So, my dear soulmate,” he said, and she thanked whatever god was listening that she was alone, “it appears you’ve been busy.”

“Don’t call me that,” she hissed, cupping her hand around the microphone to try and muffle the sound lest anyone be nearby. “And that’s a fancy way of saying I made you homeless.”

He hummed over the speaker, and through the veneer of charisma he wore so well, she sensed his true anger; the anger she had seen in the split second as he threw her underwater before the colours had burst into both of their visions.

“I suppose it is only appropriate,” John told her smoothly. “You _should_ be familiar with your future home, of course.”

She frowned, taking a quick glance back at the house in question. She wasn’t ashamed to say it was a nice place, even if there was something ominous about it because of its owner and the doubtless atrocities that had taken place on the grounds.

“Well, nothing ‘future’ about it,” Rook replied, leaning against the shed wall and brushing off his transparent attempt to rile her up. “It’s kind of already mine.”

Even as she spoke, she could hear the cluttering sounds of the Resistance setting up shop and destroying cult propaganda - eager to wash away the mark of the fanatics from the place and themselves. She had overseen the delegation of certain items being marked for storage as well; while destruction of all was cathartic, it would not be overly sensible to destroy possible resources.

“Oh? Taking charge of the household already, are you?” John asked, and she could hear the snide tone of his voice and was almost able to picture his grin. “Aren’t you just such a dutiful wife?”

“I...” Rook spluttered, fumbling the radio in her hand. “No! That’s not...That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

He laughed from the other end and she wanted nothing more than to reach through the frequency and shake some sense into him.

“Don’t be ashamed, dear; I’m glad you’re showing some initiative,” he replied, condescending and smug at once. “Though I do hope you’re not destroying too much of your home.” His tone dropped, and she imagined the expression on his face darkening. “If I should come home and find it _distasteful_...I’ll be very disappointed in you.”

She wondered if there had been a sudden chill in the air that made her want to shiver, or if a cloud had passed over the sun in the instant that she noticed there was something utterly sour about the colours around her; vibrant greens and warm, wheat-coloured golds drained into something pale and cold.

Her fingers tightened around the radio in her hand and she pursed her lips.

“Yeah?” Rook hummed to herself, thinking it almost sounded like a genuine consideration. “I guess you’ll just have to suck it up, huh?”

He gave a chuckle, but there was no warmth, no _colour_ in the sound.

“Is that so?” John asked, and she wasn’t able to read his voice. “Be warned; take my home and I may be so inclined as to return the favour. And I fear you may not find the housewarming party overly enjoyable, darling.”

Her eyes narrowed, the threat obvious even to her. Though she couldn’t help but wonder if he was referring to her crappy little apartment above the local store or the entirety of Falls End itself. But despite the bubbling rage inside her, she bit down on her tongue; determined to not give him any hint of her emotion, giving him no sign that he had gotten to her.

Because in truth, the sound of her home being threatened _did_ frighten her. When she had first rolled up to Falls End with Grace and Boomer at her side, seeing her favourite hideaways boarded up and her friends being threatened at gunpoint or herded away in trucks had been near dystopian. It had scared her terribly, and when the town had been liberated, she’d resolved to do everything in her goddamn power to make sure it was never taken again.

“Please, you’re just pissed that you lost one of your favourite torture rooms,” Rook said, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible, knowing this man was a lawyer and was likely to be keen to the sound of any slip-ups as a dog to the scent of its prey. “Don’t worry, _darling_ , your house is gonna be put to better use than it ever was under your fucking murder cult.”

There was a moment of silence before he replied, and she wondered whether he’d taken the time to compose himself, to reassure his wrath that this was just his soulmate acting out...that they would handle her properly when they got their hands on her.

“You have such a vicious tongue, dear.” He spoke softly, and the change made her frown. She had seen his wrath, had seen it when he’d pushed her under the water before their worlds came to colour, but this was not the same and it worried her. “We’ll have to temper it, won’t we? Make certain you know how to behave, how to cherish your soulmate as I will cherish you.”

She winced at the special ‘s’ word again, and reached down to turn off her radio without saying a word of farewell. She hoped it irritated him, hoped it made him desperately want to see her face, to see how she reacted. Denying him her emotions was a petty act, but it was fucking cathartic. To a man whose touch had coloured her world and bound her to him, denying him a part of her that he so desired was an act of protest in and of itself.

Rook took a great, vindictive pleasure in sleeping in the master bed she found in what was clearly John’s room; snuggling into the ridiculously soft sheets and allowing Boomer to cuddle up on the mattress beside her. She wondered if the thought of a dog sleeping on his bed would horrify him. Perhaps it would make for good leverage the next time he called on her.

The following day saw her take her trusty jeep down to the nearest outpost. Grace elected to stay behind and help strengthen their new prize, and so it was just Boomer at her side, peering eagerly out at the fields passing them by.

The main road was ahead, and she grimaced at the sight of the back of the gaudy black and white sign John had set up; Benediction pose and smarmy face accompanied by the ominous “ _We love you, and we will take you_ ” lines. It was a strange billboard, and not one particularly beloved, for obvious reasons.

She turned out onto the main road, though habit made her glance back at the sign in her rearview. What she saw made her slam on the brakes so quickly that Boomer gave a yelp and one of his legs slipped to the floor. Rook’s hand flashed to the side to steady him, giving him a hushed apology before she whipped her head over her shoulder, blinking rapidly as though to see she wasn’t dreaming.

She had passed that sign yesterday, the familiar and dreary grey and white and the man depicted as pale as the white text at his side. Sometime since then, the sign had changed.

This sign had colour.

Skin fair and dusted with just the softest hint of barely-there freckles, eyes vibrantly blue in a way that was unsettlingly lifelike, and dark hair catching the slightest trace of light from whenever the image was taken. Rook was still for an instant, before unbuckling herself and storming out of the car.

She half jogged to the base of the sign, staring up at it with an uncontained glare. It felt like a slap in the face, a gesture that John _knew_ would rile her up, and she felt a fool for stepping right into his ploy, but it couldn’t be helped. This was something aimed at her, and they both knew it. Only those who’d met their soulmates would be able to see the difference, but she was the one in particular that he wanted to see it.

_I love you... and I will take you._

Rook pushed the boot of her car open and rummaged around until she found what she was looking for. She was suddenly very grateful that she had brought Sharky along with her the past few days, as she returned to a sensible distance away from the sign and readied herself. With a loud grunt, she threw the molotov in her hand up towards the sign, thanking her teenage self for taking up basketball as a hobby.

Watching the billboard burn made her have a newfound appreciation for Sharky’s love of fire.

It wasn’t even a few minutes later that he called to her.

“Very mature of you,” he said, and she wondered if she was imagining the churlish tone to his voice. “Are you planning on destroying all of them, then?”

“If I have to,” Rook replied, taking her hand from the wheel for a second and turning her car stereo down to hear him better. “Why’d you give them a makeover?”

He hummed thoughtfully over the frequency.

“I’d decided it was best to use my newfound gift to enhance my signs,” John said smoothly, and there was a hint of slyness as he continued. “And I thought it more appropriate to ensure that they could be... _appreciated_ by someone in particular.”

“I don’t think ‘they’ appreciated them at all.” Rook scowled, hand clenching around the steering wheel. “Not before and _definitely_ not now.” She shook her head and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you planned to achieve with it, but they’re all getting lit up like a fucking bonfire.”

He sighed, the sound disappointing and she hated that she felt a stab of distress at upsetting him. But it gave her pause, and she wondered whether he felt the same way. Did something tug at his soul whenever he heard her wrath, whenever he knew she was distressed or in grief?

Did she hold the same amount of power over him as he did her?

“This needless destruction only indulges your Pride further, you know,” John interrupted her thoughts, musing over the static. “Imposing your will over a higher power’s...I do so worry for you, dear.”

She scoffed, giving a wry smile even though he couldn’t see her.

“Thanks for the concern, but I can’t help but wonder what’s so upsetting to you,” she replied, drawling slightly with a sort of arrogance she usually tried to avoid. “My rejection of my soulbond...or my rejection of _you.”_ A silence followed that made her suspect she’d hit the nail on the head, and her lip curled back in something like a snarl. “Johnny not used to _not_ getting what he wants, huh?”

“I had a _lifetime_ of not getting what I wanted,” he snapped back at her, wrath raw in his words. “And I’d watch how you speak of things you do not understand, _darling.”_ __

Rook shook her head, and Boomer whined beside her, sensing and reacting to her agitation.

“You can dish it all you like, but you just can’t take it back, can you?” She commented, turning into the driveway for US Auto, wincing as she narrowly avoided the closed gate. She leaned back in her seat, comfortably waiting as she saw that a nearby helper gestured her to stay still as he opened the way for her. “Now _that_ sounds a little bit like Pride to me, don’t you think?”

She’d barely finished her sentence before he was replying, a fury in his words that was familiar, a fury that she had seen when he’d held her thrashing underwater.

“You need to watch your tongue; you don’t know a single, _fucking_ thing about my past,” John hissed back at her, and she raised her eyebrows at his language; a part of her pleased with how she had gotten under his skin, and another, colourful part of her disgustingly upset with such discord with the other half of her soul. He was silent for a moment, and when he clicked back on the frequency, he was calm again. “But perhaps you _should_ know. We ought to learn more about each other...It’s only appropriate, after all.”

The gate was opened, and she slowly rumbled her way inside the garage, still clutching her radio in her hand and narrowing her eyes in suspicion as he continued.

“You’ve had your fun, Deputy, but I believe we must devote more attention to our intimate bond.” John spoke smoothly, charismatic and she could imagine his teeth gleaming in a smile. “It’s time to come home, my dear.” Her head snapped upwards, a pit of unease settling within her. “I’ll see you soon.”

With that, the radio clicked and he was gone.

Rook had spent the next few hours pacing inside the garage, wondering if he knew where she was - and then scolding herself because she’d clued him in about her location when she’d burnt one of his fucking billboards and of _course_ he knew where she was. But why wasn’t he doing anything?

 _He loved her...and he would take her._ So why wasn’t he? Why were there not armed convoys of men storming the outpost - would it not make sense to seize back territory and claim your soulmate in one fell swoop? It didn’t make sense.

Or maybe it did; maybe he was building her tension, making her stew in her fear before he would finally come pick her up? But the hours passed, and she wondered if it had been an empty threat. It seemed unlikely; John Seed not being a man who liked failing to deliver on his intentions.

Perhaps it was plain stupidity, or maybe even outright arrogance that made her decide to risk the drive back to the ranch. It wasn’t far, she reasoned, and she had been getting quite skilled at learning to drive like a fucking maniac on the country roads. She loaded herself and Boomer up into the Jeep, radioing a call through to Grace to expect her and be ready for a possible fight - assuming she would be dragging the hellfire cultist trackers behind her.

It should have been no surprise when, not five minutes later, she was hit with a Bliss bullet and she realised John had just been waiting for her Pride to show itself. As he knew it would; he’d named it her sin and she’d walked right fucking into it.

Fuck, but she hated proving him right.


End file.
